Inheritance
by Liquid Laughter
Summary: Sirius marvels, like so many others, over just how closely Harry Potter's eyes resemble his mothers'.


_Disclaimer: I hear quite a few people saying my name everyday. And alas!—it's never J.K. Rowling. Bugger._

_For the two bothersome near-neanderthals_

_who are quite bright, despite their protests and negations,_

_and somehow managed to worm their ways into my heart, _

_despite the fact that they're obnoxious gits. _

_Inheritance_

_Slimy, slithering, no-good, black-hearted bit of sludge,_ Sirius thought crossly, scowling out the window towards the lake, where he watched the Giant Squid tentatively poke his tentacles above the surface of the water. _Double-crossing, self-serving, arrogant, weaseling little – _

"You're up late, Black." He cursed under his breath, turning his head to look for the source of the voice. Of course. It _would_ have to be little Miss Priss, wouldn't it? The bird who'd attempted to spoil his fun – and that of his friends – for the last five years. Not that she'd ratted them out much too them this year, even though it was almost halfway through second term. In fact, she hadn't so much as spoken to any of them – save Moony, who was a prefect – since that day last year, down at the lake.

"Yes, I'm out after curfew. So what are you going to do about it, Lily-flower?" he sneered as she approached him. "Dock points? Slap me in detention? _Lecture_ me?" His voice was mocking as he scowled up at her.

She made no notice of either the use of the nickname he knew she despised or his harsh tone; she merely cocked her head to one side, eyeing him speculatively. As he sullenly waited for her to speak, he looked her over. She'd changed out of her uniform, putting on a T-shirt and a pair of denims instead; it made her look a hell of a lot less severe. Her wand was jammed casually in her back pocket. She shouldn't do that, he observed to himself, scowling, because the halls were a damn sight less than safe for anyone who wasn't a pure-blooded Dark Arts enthusiast, and he doubted the Slytherin scumbags would be so kind as to let her reach for her wand before they hexed her senseless. _Damn cowards_.

She sat down next to him suddenly, startling him out of his unpleasant thoughts. He stared at her blankly, too surprised to maintain his scowl, but she simply drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, and gazed out the window. After another moment of silence, he renewed his glare. "You know, you're supposed to be patrolling."

"I know that." Her voice was soft.

"If McGonagall or one of the other teachers finds you, you'll be in loads of trouble."

"I know that." His scowl deepened.

"I'm not bailing you out if someone _does _come."

She sighed. "Yes, I know that, too." He frowned. It would seem that she didn't give in to his baiting as easily as she used to.

"So why are you here?" His voice clearly indicated that he would prefer it if she were anywhere _but_ here so would she please clear the hell out now, but she didn't answer. Instead she propped her chin onto her folded knees and said, "You know, I have a sister."

He gazed at her in surprise, partially because the statement had been so random and partially because despite the fact that he'd lived in close quarters with her for nearly six years and had a friend who practically stalked her, he had never known that. "Really?"

She nodded. "Yeah. She's a Muggle. She's two years older than me." He wasn't exactly how to respond to that, and it didn't appear that she was going to continue, so after a moment he went back to scowling out the window on the opposite wall. "We used to be best friends."

"'Used to'?"

"Mm. I absolutely hero-worshipped her."

He wasn't sure why he was continuing this conversation. It was odd, it was unwelcome, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with him.

"What happened?" She sighed, almost imperceptibly.

"I got my letter from Hogwarts."

"Oh." The implications of what she'd just said sank in. "_Oh_."

"Yeah. Oh." They both watched the Giant Squid frolicking happily in the moonlight. "I wouldn't give up on your brother just yet, Sirius." He turned to her in amazement.

"How did you know?" She shrugged, looking uncomfortable.

"I asked Remus why you were so upset and…quiet today. I gathered from his vague answers – he dodged my questions quite nicely, I'll add - that you'd had a run-in with your brother. It wasn't too hard to piece it together from there."

"Ah." He scowled darkly at the squid. Then, quietly, harshly: "He'll never change."

"Oh, I don't know," she said, her tone speculative and light. "I used to say the same thing about Severus." He turned sharply, but she was gazing determinedly out the window.

"I'm sorry about that, by the way," he added gruffly, coughing awkwardly. "For the way that whole thing last year…turned out. I'm the one who started it, really."

She sighed, waving his apology away with one slender hand. "It's not really your fault," she said. "He had made his choice anyway. You let me know what his choice was so that I could make mine." She turned to look up at him, smiling weakly. "I'll probably owe you for that, in the long run."

He sighed, looking away, surprised at the way she was handling the topic and searching for some way to steer the conversation into less awkward waters. "Regardless, I don't think the cases are the same."

"Why?" she asked, sounding amused. "Because I thought Severus could do no wrong and you think Regulus can do no good? You never know, Sirius; he may surprise you." He turned to look down at her, eyes narrowed. He had never really held her gaze for any substantial length of time. Her eyes had always made him uncomfortable. Prongs went on and on about how beautiful they were, but while he had to admit that they were a rather pretty and unique shade of green, Sirius felt they were too knowing. It made him extremely disconcerted, looking into those eyes. He wasn't particularly fond of the feeling.

"You know something," he accused, his forehead furrowing, but she shook her head, looking back out the window.

"I think many things," she said. "I observe many things. I feel many things. And I worry about many things." Her eyebrows contracted momentarily before she turned back to him. "But as for what I actually _know_?" She shook her head. "Practically nothing. I just hope for many things." He laughed bitterly.

"I think you're a bit naïve, Lily-flower. That's not how it works."

"Hm."

"I'm not joking. You're just too soft-hearted, evidently. I mean, you forgave your sister who apparently hates you simply because you're a witch!"

"As a younger sibling, it's a bit difficult to give up that level of adoration," she stated softly, ignoring his comment. "An older sibling is, well…everything. Your first role model, your first ideal, your first hero…that doesn't exactly fade on a whim. Regardless of how that adoration is returned."

Sirius got the feeling they weren't necessarily talking about her and her sister any more.

"How do you do that?" he asked suddenly, switching topics. "Find that forgiveness?"

She stared out at the moonlit grounds for a moment, collecting her thoughts. "You have to want to forgive, for one," she said slowly. "You have truly want it."

He stared out the window with her, filled with amazement. "I can't believe that you could forgive her that easily. I don't think I could."

"Couldn't you?" She sounded amused again. "You're not so different from me, Sirius. You should, logically, have no reason to want to forgive your family, after the despicable way they've treated you…and yet you do."

"Well…I suppose," he admitted grudgingly. "But their transgression is a little less unbearable than your sister's. They disowned me because of my choices; my decisions. She disowned you because of what you are, which you had no control over."

She stood, stretching, and quirked a smile. "Oh, I don't know. Dumbledore always says that your choices designate which path you chose, who you become, but I've always felt that if you're a certain type of person, your character and your principles don't let you do anything _but_ make the right choice. So you had no more control over the situation than I did." The warmth that her words created seeped through his chest like a bottle of butterbeer as he realized what she was insinuating. "Which is why I wouldn't worry about your brother too much."

"Why's that?" he asked, his throat curiously tight.

"He had a good role model," she answered, smiling out the window at the Giant Squid, who was waving one tentacle-covered arm towards the castle. "And like I said, it's pretty hard to shake that impression off, no matter how hard you try." She turned to walk back in the way she had come. "Don't stay out too late, alright?" He nodded even though it sounded as though she hadn't expected an answer anyway. "Night, Sirius." She turned to smile back at him, and Sirius noticed dimly that her eyes no longer seemed sharp and judging and too knowledgeable. They seemed, rather, quite soft and warm. Odd.

*****

Nearly seventeen years later, he was leading an unconscious Severus Snape up the dark earthen tunnel where he'd attempted to arrange the man's murder almost two decades ago in a fit of unadulterated fury. He talked hesitantly, causally, of making arrangements for his best friend's son to come live with him as he and their little party walked. He was sure, accused murderer – and nearly intentional one, he reminded himself – that he was, Harry would have no interest in taking him up on his offer. However, his godson cut him off eagerly, accepting the offer, making plans of his own to move in as soon as possible. His godson, who had believed for almost a year that Sirius had been the cause of his parents' deaths. His godson, who had lived in terror of him since the night he ran away from his aunt and uncle's house last summer. His godson, who had heard him confess not an hour ago his desire to kill that miserable excuse for a human being currently chained to said godson's best friend. His godson, who, it appeared, _had forgiven him_, in spite of everything. Turning to look at his godson, smiling hopefully up at him, he felt that same warm feeling, like butterbeer, that he'd first felt that spring night, long ago, talking to the woman who would eventually become one of his dearest friends. He was sure Harry had heard it countless times since he'd entered the wizarding world, but he was going to tell him anyway.

"You have your mother's eyes."

_A/N: So, I've always been fond of the idea of Lily and Sirius becoming good friends, and it's always seemed to me that they've got a bit more in common than either would be willing to admit. _


End file.
